University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

24

SONG XXI. The Enquiry.

I

How cou'd, O Silvia, Cælia's Scorn
Compassion cause in Thee?
How cou'd thy Love (all smiling born)
Spring from her Cruelty?
Th'Equivocal Philosopher
Finds here his Reas'ning true;
My Warmth begat a Chill in her,
Her Ice a Fire in you.

II

That Like produces Like ev'n till
This Hour I did dispute;
But where's the Man be who he will,
That Beauty can't confute?
And yet, my Fair, w'are lost unless
A Paradox it prove;
For we can know no Happiness,
If Love begets not Love.